


don’t be scared to go put your trust in me

by protect_rosie



Series: take my hand, take my whole life too [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, if u squint, playoff sadness, post-loss feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 21:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10772631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_rosie/pseuds/protect_rosie
Summary: In a lot of ways, Braden’s losses are his losses.





	don’t be scared to go put your trust in me

**Author's Note:**

> i dont even know where to begin w this team, im just so...sad. i know the series is far from over, but goddamn it, losing both at home just sucks so bad. i went past being mad and into being really sad when the p*ns scored that third goal. 
> 
> anyway i had a lot of feelings about the loss and i decided to write this bc of those feelings. this was also partly inspired by the goalie head pats/bumps post-victory (thats been so long i almost forgot what winning feels like lmao) bc holts and grubbie just do the cutest thing and that also gives me major feelings every time i see it
> 
> so that being said this is set after last nights (29/04/2017) game vs. the p*ns
> 
> title from _boyfriend_ by big time rush (bc ive been listening to them again and they have some bangers so)
> 
> kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated!!!
> 
> enjoy!

Braden drives them home in silence.

He’s doing the thousand yard stare down the road, his right hand on the wheel and the left holding his head up. Philipp doesn’t blame him. He actually feels like doing the thousand yard stare himself, but he doesn’t feel like making Braden feel worse than he already does, than they all do, really. After all, Philipp had allowed two goals himself.

Philipp crosses his arms in front of himself, pretends to be deep in thought. But he’s really just watching Braden out of the corner of his eye, the way his knuckles are almost white around the steering wheel, the way his teeth are clenched tight. After being with Braden all these years, he knows better than to ask if he’s ok, especially after losses like the one tonight. The first time, Braden had looked so insulted, he looked like he was going to puke. It’s like he was saying  _ how dare you assume I’m not ok?,  _ like he’s immune to  _ feelings. _ The second time, he’d actually thrown up. On Philipp’s shoes. But that might have just been all the drinks Braden had before they got home. Still, never again.

Philipp’s expecting Braden to drive them over to his place, but instead, he stops in front of Philipp’s house.

“Well, here you are,” Braden says, not even looking at him, just looking out the window. 

“I thought we were going over to your place?” Philipp asks. “That’s kinda why I said yes to you giving me a ride. Because we were supposed to spend the night together, yes?”

Braden doesn’t reply, just stays silent. He’s always like that, giving Philipp the cold shoulder after shitty losses, despite Philipp saying things like  _ you tried your best  _ or  _ it wasn’t your fault  _ or sometimes even  _ I know, I was there, I’m also on the team,  _ and the occasional  _ I was in net, I know.  _ He wishes Braden didn’t do that, wishes Braden didn’t shut him out and pretend like he’s just another guy. 

In a lot of ways, Braden’s losses are his losses. Philipp stopped feeling only his emotions when he met Braden.

“Well then, I guess here I am.” Philipp unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of Braden’s car. “And for the record, you weren’t the only one this loss affected. I’m on the team too, you know? Goodnight.”

Braden doesn’t call after him, and Philipp doesn’t look back.

//

It’s tough sleeping without Braden. These days - ever since their  _ exclusive thing  _ started - they sleep with each other more often than not, whether in Braden’s bed or Philipp’s. Both of them are huggers, cuddlers of the sort, that need someone to hold onto during the night. It’s usually Philipp who ends up being the small spoon.

He doesn’t mind at all, really. He’s not a small guy by any means, but when Braden’s warmth surrounds him, he feels safe, like nothing can hurt him, Philipp sleeps the best on those days. But on days like this, he tosses and turns all night.

Philipp’s just going to have to deal with it tonight, though. Braden needs his space, needs to deal with this loss on his own, even as much as Philipp wishes Braden didn’t feel like he had to.

//

The next morning, Philipp’s making some coffee before he has to leave for the airport when he hears someone letting themselves in. There are only two other people who have the key to his house, his mom - who would’ve called if she was flying in from Germany - and Braden. That one is much more plausible, so he pours another cup of coffee.

He’s done with his so he quickly washes it and sets it on the drying rack.

When he turns around, Braden’s standing there, looking like he hadn’t slept that well either. He still looks good, though, still looks like a model fresh out of a photoshoot; Philipp will have to ask Braden if he can shoot him sometime. Maybe after the playoffs are over, and it’s time to go back home.

“That cup is yours,” Philipp says, drying his hands on his jeans. “Just put it in the sink when you’re done.”

He can feel Braden’s eyes on him as he’s leaving the kitchen. Braden doesn’t say anything so Philipp figures that he’ll talk when he’s ready.

//

Philipp’s almost done packing his bag when Braden knocks on his bedroom door.

“I know you’re mad at me, but you’ve gotta understand what this feels like for me,” he says.

“I’m not mad at you, but the thing is, I  _ do  _ know what this feels like for you,” Philipp says, closing his bag. “I was there last year too, remember? And I’m here this year. I just wish you didn’t give me the cold shoulder each time something like this happens; I don’t want to keep spending my summers in Germany by myself. My country is beautiful, but it’s not when you’re by yourself.”

“But it’s hard though. Stopping pucks is nothing compared to letting you see me like this. I don’t want you to see me like this, you should only see me when I’m at my best.”

Philipp walks closer to Braden and takes Braden’s hands in his.

“I told you I’m all in this, didn’t I tell you?” he asks, Braden nods. “So, then, you’ve gotta let me see  _ all of you.  _ I promise, I swear I won’t go running for the hills if you let me see.”

Braden sighs and squeezes Philipp’s hands.

“Ok.”

//

They hold hands on the way to the airport. 

The loss still stings a lot, Philipp can tell, but the series is so far from over. He knows Braden’s still got so much left in him, so much fight and desire to win.

“I’ve got you, ok?” Philipp states. “In here,” he says, pointing at his head, “and in here,” he says, pointing at his chest, the place where his heart should be.

He hopes Braden believes him.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell to me abt them or any of the caps and their playoff struggles over @ **grubauers** on tumblr or **bckstrms** on twitter
> 
> thanks for reading!!!


End file.
